


Born Sick

by doctor__idiot



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Church Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Sam, desecration of religious symbols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 16:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9664610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor__idiot/pseuds/doctor__idiot
Summary: “I mean, I’m used to your dumb ideas but this one takes the cake.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin" (Hozier - Take Me to Church)
> 
> I ... how do you say it ... took a few liberties.

“I mean, I’m used to your dumb ideas but this one takes the cake.”

Dean shoved the lock-picking set back into this jacket pocket and slowly slid open the heavy door. It made a haunting squeaking sound, letting both Winchesters sneak through, before it fell back into its hinges with a loud clank of metal and wood, echoing off stone pillars and high ceilings. Dean lead the way to the front, their footsteps resonating dully in the vast open hall.

“What if someone catches us?” Sam hissed, barely able to make out his brother’s features in the dark. The only light came from the moon outside, shining sickly through the stained glass windows.

“Live a little, Sammy.”

Sam gave a derisive snort but refrained from any further comments. Dean was in a good mood and that was rare enough that he didn’t want to ruin it. Besides, talking could only draw attention to them.

They reached the front and Dean turned around to him, placing his palm smack in the middle of Sam’s chest, pushing him to the side and back. “Sit down.”

Surprised enough to follow the command without question Sam walked backward until the back of his knees hit solid wood. He sat down. Without preamble, Dean climbed into his lap, kneeling with his legs bracketing Sam’s thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam breathed even as his hands automatically settled on Dean’s hips. “We’re in a fucking church.”

“We are. And you just cursed _and_ used Jesus’s name in vain. Looks like neither of us is a model citizen.” Even in the near darkness Dean’s grin was white and blinding.

Sam shook his head. “You’re insane.” His hands remained where they were and he didn’t make a move to stop Dean when he pushed Sam’s jacket out of the way and rucked up the shirt underneath, exposing Sam’s belly and lower chest to the chilly air.

“You like me insane,” he said, hands focused on the task of relieving Sam of his clothes.

Sam asked, “What are you gonna do?” when Dean had laid his torso bare and slid his hands to Sam’s neck, fingers curling into his hair. Dean nudged Sam’s chin up with his thumb and dipped down but stopped right before their mouths could meet. Close enough for Sam to taste Dean’s breath, coffee and beer and minty chewing gun.

“I’m gonna ride you.” His lips brushed Sam’s when he spoke. “Right here.”

The hitch in Sam’s breath sounded loud to his own ears, loud in the open silence of the nighttime church hall, and his pulse jumped. “Do you even have lube?” he asked, lips brushing against Dean’s again.

Dean huffed, a warm gust of air against the corner of Sam’s mouth. “What do you think I am, an amateur?”

It wasn’t an easy undertaking to get rid of their clothes while perched on a fucking church pew but somehow they managed. Sam couldn’t deny that it felt unfairly good to have Dean’s naked skin against his own, and he also couldn’t deny that the wrongness of it all was just a tiny bit arousing.

Dean grinned down at him and maybe Sam had made some kind of noise or his face was giving away what he was thinking but, on second thought, it was probably his hard, aching cock pressing impatiently against Dean’s belly that gave him away. Dean certainly seemed to take it as an invitation to tease Sam just a little more, just a bit longer, rotating his hips against Sam’s groin, rubbing in all the right places.

Sam pressed his mouth against his brother’s shoulder to muffle a groan that would have been too loud in the empty church. He set his teeth against bone, making Dean jump and hiss when he bit down none-too-gently, licking over the red mark as an apology.

Dean muttered, “Okay, okay,” voice hoarse and then he was fumbling with the lube package, slick-wet hand stroking Sam’s cock before he could say anything in response. Sam made a choked noise that turned into a moan, not muffled quickly enough this time, when Dean sunk down on him, into his lap, circling his hips all the way down, and Sam’s fingers were digging bruises into his brother’s hips.

“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning forward, tilting his head up – and wasn’t that a little strange – to capture Dean’s lips in a kiss, licking all those little breathy sounds he was making right out of his mouth. 

Forearms wound around Sam’s neck, Dean began to move against him, they moved together, and it worked until Dean’s knee slipped off the polished wood, slippery with sweat. Sam caught him around the back of his thighs, kissing away the small wounded noise that spilled from his mouth and they set up a more-or-less even rhythm. Sam’s hair began to stick to his forehead and Dean occasionally brushed it away, tucked it behind Sam’s ears. Sam hauled his brother in closer, pressing deep inside of him, and kissed him again, sloppy, messy, but too good to stop.

Dean’s knee slipped again.

“Goddammit!” he cursed heartily, turning his gaze down to glower at the pew, and Sam huffed a breathless laugh. The place they had chosen wasn’t exactly made for a 6’4” guy with another 6’1” guy in his lap, no matter how hard they tried to make it work.

“Wait,” he said and sat up. He wrapped his arms around Dean but couldn’t avoid throwing him off balance a little when he pushed off the pew and up, taking his brother with him. Dean’s breath stuttered in surprise when Sam lifted him and his fingers tightened in Sam’s flesh but mostly he just looked curious.

Curiosity dawned into comprehension as Sam carried him to the front of the hall, from the first row of pews to the cloth-covered altar, and lowered him onto the edge of it, crowding in close. The corners of Dean’s mouth twitched with amusement.

“And you call me the kinky one,” he needled, a glint in his eyes that told Sam that his brother was enjoying this turn of events just a little bit too much. If there was such a thing as enjoying something too much. Perhaps there was if it involved sitting butt-naked on a church altar in the middle of the night.

Sam only gave a grunt in response and lowered Dean to the altar top, urging him down with his own body, palms sliding underneath Dean’s thighs to lift them and Dean instantly wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist. 

He was looking up, right at Sam, lips pursed. His fingers briefly curled in the fabric of the cloth, then smoothed it back down. “You know this is gonna stain, right?”

“M-hm,” Sam said, a little glad that the darkness hid the hot flush creeping into his cheeks. 

Dean somehow seemed to see anyway because he was grinning again. He looked like he wanted to make some sort of smart remark, too, so Sam shut him up the best way he knew how. He gripped his brother’s hips, angled them to thrust his cock back into wet heat, one smooth glide, and Dean’s mouth went slack. His hand fisted in the linen again, wrinkling it beyond repair.

“Jesus, Sammy,” he moaned when Sam bore down, pumping his cock in and out, constant pressure on Dean’s prostate.

“Now, who’s using His name in vain?”

Dean gasped, “Fuck you,” but there wasn’t any heat behind it. He reached up to tangle his fingers into Sam’s hair and pull him down into an uncoordinated kiss, all tongue, lips getting caught between teeth. It was perfect.

Dean made a sound, low in the back of his throat but rising fast, almost turning into a whine, and Sam knew his brother was close to coming. He could feel Dean’s heart racing against his own where their chests were pressed together and he picked up the pace a bit more, lifting Dean’s hips off the altar to make his thrusts reach as deep as they possibly can.

Dean came between them with a shout – Sam could hear it echo off the old walls –, his spine arching, and it was, indeed, a mess. Dean was right, this was going to leave stains. Sam couldn’t bring himself to care. Actually, the thought was sort of turning him him on even more. He hadn’t ever thought that desecrating religious symbols would do it for him but with Dean, all bets were off. It always came down to that. To Dean.

Dean, who was whispering “Sammy” over and over now, almost like a chant, until Sam dipped down and kissed him again. Dean was usually fairly spent after an orgasm and Sam was surprised by the vigor with which Dean grabbed his face and held him while they kissed, and he was still making those little gasping noises every time Sam drove his cock into him. That was what did him in eventually.

He pulled back to bite down on his own bottom lip instead of on his brother’s and spilled inside of Dean, his entire body shaking. He felt Dean’s hands on him, holding him, stroking his skin, and when the last of the aftershocks ebbed away he found Dean staring up at him, eyes a little droopy but intense nonetheless.

“What?” Sam asked softly, voice slightly rough.

This time there wasn’t a grin but rather a gentle smile and for a second or two it threw Sam for a loop. Dean shrugged, rustling the cloth he was lying on. “Nothin’.”

It wasn’t ‘nothing’, Sam could tell but he didn’t want to press the issue. He snaked an arm around Dean’s back to help him sit up but Dean shook his head. He shifted around a little and Sam became very aware of his brother’s legs that were still wrapped tightly around his middle.

“What?” he asked again, “You want me to carry you out of here?”

Dean snorted, “No,” and Sam smiled right along with him. The moonlight from the windows only illuminated half the altar and when Dean turned his head slightly to the side, it hit the tips of his hair like a strange parody of a halo and Sam didn’t know whether to call it situational irony or not but it was definitely funny how the first word that came to his mind to describe his brother right now was ‘angelic’.

He could barely hold back the burst of laughter threatening to spill out of him. Dean narrowed his eyes at him, cocking his head to the other side and the halo-like ring of light was gone.

Sam shook his head, saying ‘Doesn’t matter’ without words.

About fifteen minutes later – after they had dressed in silence and stolen out the back door, Dean snickering behind the palm of his hand –, a pair of uniforms entered the church with flashlights, trying to locate the cause of the disturbance call the local police station had received.


End file.
